


reds

by lilys_bananas_coven



Category: American Horror Story, American Horror Story: Coven
Genre: Cigarettes, F/F, Girls Kissing, How Do I Tag, Implied/Referenced Alcohol Abuse/Alcoholism, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, Kissing, Making Out, Smoking, fight me, holy shit so much smoking, madison is too high to have an attitude, madison smokes marlboro reds, no sight of kyle oops, zoe is not subtle like she wants to be
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-25
Updated: 2020-11-25
Packaged: 2021-03-10 07:41:38
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,163
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27709910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lilys_bananas_coven/pseuds/lilys_bananas_coven
Summary: kissing Madison feels like smoking a cigarette, Zoe decides. and Madison knows she's had enough to smoke, but she hasn't had enough of Zoe just yet.
Relationships: Zoe Benson/Madison Montgomery
Comments: 6
Kudos: 44





	reds

**Author's Note:**

> Hello!! Finals are over and I have two weeks to write to my heart's content without feeling guilty for not studying! You can all bet your asses all I've done is watch AHS and anything else on my watchlist instead of actually writing though :') but I've had this in my drafts for MONTHS so I decided to finish it up. I must say though, all I've been able to write recently is Madison/Cordelia stuff and hope to publish some soon. Till then, enjoy this little thing!
> 
> p.s. I also have some pieces of Cordelia with the coven girls in the works :)

To dissipate as quickly as smoke does in the air is an unattainable dream, much like any other of her dreams. She can only smoke her lungs to death, breathing nicotine like it's oxygen, and so she does. Perhaps, if she were to smoke the room up enough, she could just disappear inside it and never be found again. Wishful thinking has a sting, not unlike the kind that warns her of the tears forming in her eyes. She blinks them away, but nothing clears her vision of the milky clouds she puffs into the air. She likes it like this; impairing her vision until all the edges are softened and sharp pain becomes nothing but fuzzy warmth. 

Zoe's coughing fit is an indicator of her entrance. Madison blinks up at her, uninterested and unable to see clearly through all her smoke. The brunette rushes to open the curtains and windows, filling the room with an unwelcome light. Dusk files into the space in orange hues, painting the ghostly air in some colour. Madison decides she doesn't mind it so much. She knows she can't convince Zoe to keep the windows closed for the sake of her smoky daydream. 

"Madison! How many of those have you smoked?!" Zoe's voice is shrill, and it hurts only a little bit to hear.

The girl's shock isn't so surprising. Madison notes her lack of subtlety from the three empty boxes strewn across the floor, as well as the one that's half full sitting in her lap. She smiles, a ghostly expression, blowing out the last of her current cigarette and pressing it's glowing tip into the mess of her overflowing ashtray. 

"I've done worse, Zoe," she murmurs, soft, dry. A drink would be nice, but only if it's strong enough to burn her throat off. 

Madison can barely keep up with anything Zoe's saying. She's done it; she's smoked enough to get herself truly fucked up. It's exactly what she had wanted, but with Zoe panicking over her state of lethargy and unresponsiveness, she really should've locked the door. They share a room, for fuck's sake. 

"Zoe, can you... Can you do me a favour and calm down? I'm fine," Madison waves, reaching into her last pack for another. She has four left.

"Madison, no!" Zoe shrieks, snatching the box and the unlit cancer stick out of Madison's trembling hands. 

The blonde can't even protest despite her anger; she's too fucked up. She looks up at Zoe again, trying to glare, but her face doesn't quite move the way she wants it to. Madison sighs, barely frustrated with all the smoke acting like a buffer against her usual sharpness. She drags her legs up from the floor, bringing her knees to her chest to rest her chin on them. It's colder without something to smoke. Watching Zoe move around the room in a flurry of long hair and dark clothes is so strange to her incoherent state of mind, and yet she can't tear her eyes away. 

Zoe is pretty. 

It must be the high. 

Zoe is really pretty. 

Madison misses her Marlboro reds as soon as they're gone. Zoe's picked up all the empty boxes along with the one that still has a few. A part of Madison almost aches seeing them being tossed in the trash, like they're being wasted. But who is she kidding? She's the wasted one here, not those unlit cigarettes in the trash. Zoe approaches her again, and this time she picks up the heavy ashtray, trying not to spill anything on her way to the bathroom. Madison can't fathom why Zoe is cleaning up after her so frantically, but she hasn't the strength to ask or argue. She blinks slowly, eyes glazed over as she strains them to watch Zoe's every move. The room is clearing up, and dusk is getting darker.

Zoe comes back in a mixture of heavy footsteps and audible breaths. Madison strains her neck to look up at her from her place on the floor. It's cold. 

"Madison, come on. You have to get off the floor, it's freezing," she says, and it's uncharacteristically soft of her, especially for such a tender tone to be directed at Madison.

Zoe snakes her arms under Madison's, holding her torso as steadily as she can to lift her up. Madison is dead weight, weakly holding onto whichever part of Zoe that's closest. Zoe's struggle to carry her the short distance to her bed is evident in the way she grunts softly, ever determined to succeed. She all but drops Madison onto the soft mattress of her unmade bed, huffing to catch her breath for a moment. Madison blinks away the haziness in her eyes, wishing, just for a moment, to be able to see Zoe clearly. She wants to. She wants something- someone, to be clear enough, just for now. Her high is slowly turning scary, as it always does. Things never stay feeling this good for long, but she supposes it had been nice for a while. She can't afford to let Zoe leave her now. 

"Get some rest, Madison. I'm gonna ask Cordelia what to do," Zoe mumbles, and she makes it no more than two steps before Madison's carelessly strewn arm reaches far enough for her to claw at her wrist. 

Zoe turns, staring Madison down with surprise that isn't hidden. Her gaze is questioning, it's confused. Madison doesn't blame her; she's never voluntarily touched the girl in her life. 

"Stay... Please. I can't be alone right now," is all she can mumble, not knowing if she's even coherent, but it's enough to make Zoe stay. It's enough. 

Zoe sighs, and Madison isn't quite sure what's laced in the sound now. The high is catching up to her. Her head throbs, and she frankly feels like she's going to die tonight while simultaneously feeling nothing at all. But at least Zoe is here. She hopes Zoe is really here.

"Mads, why do you do this to yourself..." Zoe whispers, and the shakiness to her voice is such a blatant giveaway of how much she actually cares. 

Three and a half packs of signature Marlboro reds is enough to stop Madison from feeling for a while, including the twinge in her heart that she knows is there. Really, the only thing she can feel is the irrational fear bubbling in the pit of her stomach; a side effect she knows all too well.

But Zoe cares about her. 

"I'm scared, Zoe. It's coming," Madison murmurs, tugging with all her strength on the sleeve of Zoe's hoodie. 

"What are you scared of? What's coming?" Zoe asks. 

She's so innocent, so concerned. While Madison absently wonders what it would be like to taint Zoe's purity with the evils of this world, she knows she would do everything her weak being is capable of to never let it happen. She’d like to think that, at least. 

"Nothing. Come here, Zoe. Please... Please hold me," the high blonde whispers, persistent in her weak tugs. 

Zoe seems hesitant enough before she gives in with a trademark sigh. Her sitting frame is now lying beside Madison, their shoulders touching from the limited space the mattress offers. Madison struggles to turn and face her. When she does, her eyes are too teary to make out the expression on Zoe's face. There's a sliver of warmth on her cheek, just under her eye. Zoe's thumb brushes away a burning tear, but there's another one chasing it. 

"Can you kiss me?" Madison asks, not quite confident in her tone but definitely not nervous. Cigarettes kill any and all nerves. 

"Wh-what?" 

"Kiss me, Zoe." 

"Madis-"

"Please." 

And Zoe does. She leans in, cautious and confused and ever so slightly anticipating it. Her glossy lips press themselves into Madison's chapped ones with intent. It lasts not more than a couple of seconds. It tastes like artificial strawberries and cigarettes. Of course. Madison's eyes are still closed even when they part, and Zoe stares. She stares fearlessly, stunned and enamoured by the ghostly smile that finds its way to Madison's mouth. Her lips curve upward in the slightest, something Zoe would never notice if she isn't less than a foot from her face. 

Madison opens her eyes.

Zoe doesn't look away. 

"Thank you. I'm less scared now," the blonde mumbles, and through her unsteady gaze she attempts to remember every detail of Zoe's face. 

Madison moves with less caution now, not that she had really been careful before. She's just exhausted, and her muscles are sluggish. But she manages to shift closer, burrowing into Zoe's body. She hides her face, her tears, and her trembling lower lip in the crook of the brunette's neck where she can be felt but not seen. She's not sure which is better, since both make Zoe worry. The thoughts disappear once the girl wraps her arms around her, blanketing her in warmth. It's not so cold in Zoe's arms. It's not so dead being surrounded by someone so alive. 

"Scared of what, Mads?" Zoe asks softly, carding slender fingers through blonde hair while her other arm is locked around a small body. 

"I..." Madison shakes her head, blinking more tears out from her eyes, "I don't know how to tell you." 

"It's okay. I'm here. There's nothing to be afraid of now," Zoe whispers, and Madison wants to believe her, but her bad high is making it hard. 

She tries anyway. It's not as frightening as it would be if she were alone, and that's enough to stop her from shaking so violently in her own skin. Zoe's hold is gentle but it grounds her enough. She struggles to feel the girl's warmth through her buffered nerve endings, but she knows it's there. They remain this way for an unnameable amount of time, Madison's high being slow in its descent, and Zoe's mind overflowing with thoughts. Hours pass, until all that’s left of the blinding smoke that had overtaken the room is it’s stench.

"Mads, I... I want you to get help. I hate seeing you like this." 

Madison grunts softly in acknowledgement. Perhaps she appreciates the sentiment. She needs another smoke. Maybe she does need help. 

"You want me to see a shrink? Or go to rehab?" 

"I- n-no, those are just options… maybe, I-I don’t know. I mean let's talk to Cordelia about this. She's not useless like you think she is. She cares about you." 

A scoff dies in the back of Madison's throat before she can sound it out. Zoe is just trying to help, and Cordelia really isn't that bad, but it’s questionable if she really cares about her. It fucking hurts to be considerate of other people's feelings. Madison's head throbs at the mere prospect of caring, and yet she cares. She hates that she cares.

She cares about Zoe. Maybe she even cares about Cordelia too, or she would have just watched the blind woman fall and die at the bottom of the stairs. How tragic. 

"What can she do?" Madison mumbles, fingers finding entertainment in any loose threads on Zoe's soft clothes that she can find. 

"She can help you with your smoking problem. I know she has some... Some weird potion shit for withdrawals or something. It's worth a shot, okay?" Zoe sounds unconvinced as she speaks, and it brings a cruel little smile to Madison's lips. She's still hidden from the brunette, so she allows herself the pleasure. 

"Smoking is the least of my problems, you naive little thing," whispers Madison, now tracing her name into Zoe's exposed collarbone with an index finger.

Zoe stiffens at the way she's addressed. She doesn't like being underestimated. But Madison has never sounded so subdued, so... So gentle. If she isn't looking into it so hard, she'd miss the almost affectionate lilt to her tone. But it's there. Madison's there. 

They fall into silence after this. Zoe's is pensive, while Madison is slowly drained as she comes down from her high. Her fingers still absently trace words and patterns into Zoe's skin, or bury themselves into the soft fabric of her clothes when they get too cold. There are large gaps between each time she blinks, dazed. But she feels safe here. She feels safe with Zoe wrapped around her like this. She doesn't know if she should tell her that or not. Her heart constricts uncomfortably, feeling too big inside her when Zoe holds her just a little tighter, a little closer. As she rests her face against the lithe body of the latter, the steady heartbeat she hears is grounding. Zoe's life pulses strongly around Madison's frail frame. 

Zoe's so... _alive_. It makes Madison wonder just how she got here; being about as dead as a living person could possibly get. 

"Zoe?" she whispers, no more than a vulnerable soul without her mask of an attitude to protect herself with. 

"Yeah?" 

"Why do you care about me?" 

Madison can't say she's expecting much of an answer to what is meant to be a harmless question. But Zoe stiffens, and her heartbeat suddenly isn't that consistent pattern that it had been right up until hearing the words. The blonde is silent and patient; she has nothing else to do and nowhere else to be but here, waiting on Zoe's words and hiding out in her arms. 

"I- we're... We're supposed to look out for each other. This coven is a shit show, but... I can still do what I can for it," Zoe mumbles, and she's satisfied enough with the neutrality of her carefully crafted answer. 

Madison hums in acknowledgement. Sounds like Zoe, she supposes. The girl has seemed to give more of a shit than the rest of them since the start, anyway. Of course, she only comes after their catastrophic mess of a headmistress who can't see anything but people's secrets at the moment. Queenie openly hates Madison and Nan seems to be on her side. That leaves Cordelia, her psychotic Supreme mother, the swamp rat, and Zoe. It only makes sense for it to be Zoe, right here. Madison wonders, just briefly, if she'd still want Zoe here even if the girl was more than just the best of all the worst options. She thinks she would, and that scares her. 

"I know everyone here is kind of fucked up. I am and you are, too. But that doesn't mean it's every man for himself. We're supposed to be a united coven, or some shit. I figured I'd start," the brunette continues, having found a little more confidence to keep her words going. 

"Because I never would have," Madison notes, leaving no room to argue(not that Zoe would, considering the truth in it). 

Zoe grunts like she agrees, and she does. They both know Madison would never lose enough of her pride to be the first one to do anything. The situation they're in, intimate by nature, would probably not exist had their roles been switched. Madison cares, but whether she shows it is another story entirely. 

Zoe can't stop thinking about her. 

She wonders if things will be different after this, or if they're both going to continue with their lives like this is a little blip in the universe, a mistake that'll never be revisited. But could they- would they be able to live with each other and never acknowledge this? There's tension burning between them like an ever growing flame; nothing like the dull smolder of Madison's cigarette tips. They've kissed each other. Madison's more vulnerable than Zoe's ever seen her, and she's not trying to hide. This is new, and it's strange, and the chances of it ending in flames are more likely than something good coming out of it. Zoe wants to steel herself, to push Madison off her and ask her not to play dangerous games like this. The blonde is always like this- always teetering on the edge of something volatile just for the sake of doing it. Zoe wants to stand her ground this time. She wants to be angry enough that she'll have enough venom in her tone to at least put up a fight against the destructive force that is Madison Montgomery, but-

"Thank you for being here, Zoe. I'm sorry." 

Whatever anger that had been festering inside Zoe by force is immediately extinguished, to her admitted relief and mild frustration. Now she can only wonder how much it's just killed Madison inside to say the words 'thank you' and 'sorry' in one mouthful. The thought brings the smallest smile to her face, despite herself. Truly, she's so very fucked. 

"What are you sorry for?" she settles on asking, mindlessly running her fingers through straightened, blonde hair. 

In a sound louder than any words she's spoken so far, Madison sighs, "I really don't think you need me to name every fucked up thing I've done that I should've said sorry for." 

Zoe only hums. Fair enough. There's not nearly enough sharpness to Madison's tone for her to be back to her normal self yet and they both know it. It means Madison's still trying to come down from her unpleasant high, her mind a mess while her nerves are just about dysfunctional. It means Zoe has to stay here longer, holding Madison close and keeping her warm and away from the rest of the world for a while. 

It's not that she would leave, anyway. 

In their nameless situation, Zoe and Madison allow themselves to take all the comfort they can from each other. Perhaps they're both thinking that this is the only time something like this is happening between them; that right when Madison's feeling better and Zoe's got her head cleared, they'll go back to being positively venomous to each other. It's the inherent desperation of it all, settled uncomfortably beneath their skin, that causes them to hold onto each other with such strength even in their weakened states. It's the thought of whatever messy aftermath they'll make for themselves because of this moment of intimacy that makes them crave more of each other while they still can. They take what they can before they'll have to face reality. Before they'll have to face each other.

But Madison is sorry. She really is. 

And Zoe does care. She really does. 

Whether or not the two really believe each other is unknown to one another. Madison apologising is rare enough, but her actually meaning it is even rarer. Zoe can't shake that persistent thought from her mind. Equally as frustrating is her other mind, convincing her that Madison really means it. She already knows what she believes, deep down, but she isn't ready to admit that. 

Though uncomfortable at the thought of their near future, Madison finds it easy to believe Zoe. Much unlike herself, the brunette presents herself straightforwardly for the most part. She's honest about most things and isn't a fucking pathological liar. That says enough, and while Madison struggles to see why anyone would care about her, let alone Zoe, her reasons seem simple enough. -- She doesn’t stop herself from wondering if there’s more to Zoe’s words, more that has to do with her specifically and not this shit show coven in its entirety. How immature of her to want to be special. She can’t help it- can’t help but crave for more warmth. It’s cold.  
Madison doesn’t ask the second time. Zoe doesn’t protest, nor is she hesitant like before. She almost welcomes, if that isn’t too strong of a word, Madison’s cigarette flavoured lips onto her own. It isn’t a particularly gentle kiss, but it’s far from rough. It couldn’t possibly be when Madison is as weak as she is, and Zoe is as careful of hurting her as she is. She parts her lips in tune with Madison’s warm tongue drawing a line along her lower lip. From the taste alone, she knows this is the closest she could possibly get to smoking a cigarette without actually doing it. Because kissing Madison burns in her lungs, too, and it loosens her mind’s grip on any important thoughts. She wonders if this is why the blonde does it so much, as their tongues dance around each other and breathy sounds slip from the small gaps between their lips.

They shift unconsciously until Zoe is on top of Madison, but not quite crushing the blonde with her body. It feels like a weighted blanket, is all Madison’s hazy mind can come up with. She doesn’t care so much for the feeling when every coherent thought is focused on kissing Zoe in the best way she knows how. She’s good at this, if there’s anything she’s good at. The sliver of confidence slithers around her tongue and into Zoe’s mouth, showing her just how well she knows how to do this. Zoe understands immediately, if her uncontrollable magnetism toward the blonde is any indication. She can’t tear herself from Madison, and she doesn’t want to. Ever. her lungs burn from the loss of oxygen and the infiltration of Madison in her airways. How long can she feel it before she has to blow the smoke out?

“Madison,” she breathes, when their mortal needs force them to part from one another, “what are we doing?”

Madison stares up at her, in a different haze entirely, and reaches a hand up to touch the brunette’s face. Her cold fingertips land on Zoe’s jaw, barely there, and she whispers, “We’re kissing.”

And really, they both know that it isn’t supposed to be enough of an answer. There’s more to it that Madison has dodged with minimal effort, and yet here Zoe is, taking it. She can’t figure out why she would let Madison smartass her way out of this when they’re on thin ice. She can’t figure out why she wants to do whatever it is they’re doing, in which kissing is the least of. 

Before Zoe can force another question out of her mouth like she knows she should, she finds herself pressing it back against Madison’s with an unnamed desperation. The blonde only lets her, and unlike the brunette, easily staves off her own questions with the last of her high. Once again, it’s her Marlboro reds that act like the closest possible thing to a reliable friend in her fucked up life. Here they are, easing her mind enough to let her enjoy something, for once. She kisses Zoe like something important depends on it. Perhaps Zoe’s life, but not hers, because she doesn’t really think it’s important. Maybe, if Zoe were to kiss her long enough, she’d feel otherwise. She wishes to feel important, wishes Zoe can make her feel important. Zoe’s lips don’t come with the toxicity of a cigarette, but they surely settle her in a warmth that’s both comforting and bordering on unbearable. It’s pleasant, and the fact alone is what makes it unpleasant. For such a small body, she’s seemingly a vessel for contradiction in every corner it fits. Such conflict tears one apart, and it surely tears Madison apart.  
Zoe feels overcome with a warmth she’s not so familiar with when they pull apart from one another again, panting for air. It’s as if Madison herself harbours the effect of what she smokes so much of. It’s as if Madison has breathed intoxication into her system like a living, breathing drug. She doesn’t understand. Her mouth tingles from the lingering sensation of Madison’s chapped lips and warm tongue all over it. Dazed, she rolls off Madison to lie beside her. To her anticipation and conflicted state of mind, Madison has enough strength to straddle her. The blonde begins to lean in again, but pauses on her own accord. Her eyes trace the features on Zoe’s face with a tenderness she isn’t even aware of, searching for apprehension like a trained eagle. 

“Are you okay?” she asks, words blanketed in hushed tones.

“I… yeah. Yeah, I’m fine,” Zoe whispers, and while she can’t put a name to this feeling, she’s certainly okay. 

Madison makes no move from her place atop the brunette. She remains, watching Zoe’s miniscule twitches and movements and the imperceptible dilation of her dark pupils. She is truly a beautiful specimen to behold, and one Madison had never given herself the pleasure of studying until now. Something is changing, too rapidly for either of them to stop it, and Madison just wishes they’ll both be okay with whatever breaks out of the cocoon by the end of the night. Because she can’t hold herself back any longer, and Zoe’s allowing it- wanting it, too. She doesn’t know much about this, or them, or anything but the darkness she’s familiar with, but she knows Zoe wants it too. 

Or at least, she’d like to think she knows, when she finally leans down, and Zoe just pulls her in deeper.

**Author's Note:**

> I hope you liked that!! And yes Madison with cigarettes is an aesthetic I'm in love with if you couldn't tell.
> 
> here's my tumblr if you wanna send some asks/prompts/requests or if you just need someone to talk to! : [lilysbananascoven](https://lilys-bananas-coven.tumblr.com/post/633232114303778816/lilysbananascoven-archive-of)


End file.
